


Four Times Madeline Westen Was Asked To Help Out And One Time She Wasn't

by Dracothelizard



Category: Burn Notice
Genre: 4 Times fic, Gen, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 08:44:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2844968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracothelizard/pseuds/Dracothelizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four times Fiona, Jesse, Sam and Michael asked Madeline for help, and one time that didn't happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Times Madeline Westen Was Asked To Help Out And One Time She Wasn't

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anemptymargin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemptymargin/gifts).



**1\. Fiona**

"I need you to pose as my mother," Fiona said, smiling as Madeline put a glass of iced tea in front of her.

"Your mom?" Madeline asked, sitting down opposite her friend. She was surprised and also, if she had to be honest, a little flattered. "Why?"

"Oh, some guy is scamming nice old ladies out of their pensions with some ridiculous condo scheme," Fiona said, bristling. "And old men too, obviously. I already asked Sam for help, but he was outraged I wanted him to pose as my elderly and fragile father."

Madeline had to laugh at that. Sam could definitely get touchy about his age sometimes. "And what makes you think I won't get mad?" She lit a cigarette, and enjoyed the brief look of worry on Fiona's face.

"Your ego's not as fragile as his?" Fiona tried, and she leaned forward. "Look, I don't know a lot of people in the right age range, okay? Michael's working on some other thing or I'd get him to break out the theatrical make-up and disguises. You know he'd love to do that."

"Sometimes I wonder if he didn't go into spying because he likes dressing up and putting on accents," Madeline mused. She smiled at Fiona. "Sure, honey, I'll pose as your mother. Now, how elderly and fragile are we talking here?"

Fiona grinned, toasting her glass of iced tea to Madeline's before taking a sip. "Thanks, Madeline. A touch of forgetfulness wouldn't hurt. I'll be at the meeting as your dutiful daughter, you distract the guy with questions about the condo and the contracts, I'll excuse myself and snoop around the rest of his office. Think you can manage that?"

Madeline's smile grew. "Bug some slimy rat with a bunch of dumb questions? Oh yeah, I think I can manage that."

**2\. Jesse**

"Madeline!"

"What!" she shouted back from the kitchen. She didn't mind having Jesse live in her garage, the guy was nice and actually paid rent, but sometimes she wished she could have the peace and quiet back.

"Your washing machine's acting up. Again."

She sighed, and grumbled to herself as she made her way to the laundry room next to the garage. "What is it this time?"

"Don't look at me like that," Jesse said accusingly. "The door's jammed. I can't get it open."

Madeline remained unimpressed. "Did you check the manual?" she asked.

"I did." He actually managed to sound smug. "And I tried the reset button combo. Didn't work."

Madeline crouched down to try the door herself. It really was stuck. "Huh."

"Now do you agree that you should get a new one?"

She stood up. "This machine has been working just fine for over twenty years."

"And I am duly impressed," Jesse said, smiling a little. "But you gotta admit this thing needs replacing."

Madeline took one long drag from her cigarette, eyed the machine, and thumped it hard on top. She smiled when there was a click. "Try it now."

Jesse stared at her, but opened the door. "Okay," he said. "That was not in the manual."

She patted him on the shoulder. "Well, now you know." She walked back to the kitchen, shaking her head. Honestly, the guy could do things with computers that she would never understand, but was stumped by a washing machine.

 

**3\. Sam**

"Hey, Maddie, what are you doing Friday evening?"

It wasn't often that Sam called her, and Madeline was immediately suspicious. "Did your latest ladyfriend kick you to the curb already?"

"No!" came the indignant reply. "Me and Elsa are doing great."

"Hm-mm. So why are you calling, then?" she asked.

"Mike is doing a job trying to expose a corrupt politician, who's throwing a fundraiser this Friday. We figured Chuck Finley should make an appearance," he explained.

"That's great, but where do I come in?" Sam rarely approached her to help with a case, it was usually Michael, and Sam preferred to do his Chuck Finley act alone.

"I figure this time, Chuck Finley is a family guy with a respectable marriage," Sam explained. "You know, just like the politicians."

She snorted at that. "Okay, and is there any reason Elsa can't join you? I mean, she's gotta know you help out Michael every now and then, right? Even if she doesn't know all the details?"

"She knows enough not to balk at me using a fake name but... Maddie, I need someone there who knows what they're doing, someone who's got a cool head when things get dangerous," he admitted. " And you're good with people, talking to them and getting them to talk to you. I figure, you can schmooze with the politician's wife, I can schmooze with the politician..."

"Get 'em from both sides." Madeline was smiling now. It was nice to be appreciated for the few skills she could bring to the table. "But how dangerous are we talking here? You said it was a political fundraiser."

"Well, we both know how these jobs with Michael sometimes go... You go in wanting to talk, before you know it there's explosions going off and people pulling out guns."

She snorted again. "And I'm more expendable than Elsa is?"

"I did not say that," Sam argued, and after a moment's silence added, "but then you've never paid for any of my mojitos, Maddie."

"And if you hadn't blown up my house, I might've," she countered, and laughed as Sam spluttered with indignation. He really was too easy to rile up sometimes.

 

**4\. Michael**

"Mom, I'm working on a thing and I need you to -"

"You got it," she said immediately.

He paused on the other end of the line. "I didn't even tell you what I needed you to do."

"You never ask me to help unless it's absolutely necessary and something I can do," she said. "I'll be right there."

"Thanks, Mom." He still sounded surprised, but also relieved.

She hung up, smiling down at her phone. How could Michael possibly think she would ever turn down a chance to help him?

 

**5\. Mrs. Johnson from next door**

"Oh, there's those boys again," Sally muttered, and Madeline watched as her neighbour's arms wrapped around herself as if she was cold. Or scared.

"What boys?" She turned to glance at the street. There were three teenage boys on the other side. One of them noticed the two of them looking, and nodded as if in greeting as they walked past.

Madeline turned to her friend, who was looking back at her house. "Sally? What's going on?"

"Nothing," she said quietly, and glanced at Madeline before briefly looking at the three teenagers. "It's probably nothing."

"Sally." Her friend was scared, and Madeline was gonna find out why and what those boys had to do with it.

Her neighbour shrugged. "It's just... they've been hanging around this street for a while now. Last week one of them rang my doorbell, asking if there were any errands he could help me with. When I said 'no', he kept up the conversation anyway. Noticed I didn't have a wedding ring, asked if it was just me living here..."

Madeline didn't say anything. Sally's husband had divorced her only a few months ago, and her kids had all moved out. "But you've got a burglar alarm, right?"

"Yes," she replied. "But you hear stories, don't you? And it's not that advanced, it's mostly meant to scare people off from trying."

Madeline nodded in understanding. The teenagers hadn't bothered her yet, but she would bet her last cigarette they had done some scouting around the other houses in the neighbourhood. Maybe they were part of a bigger gang doing some groundwork to see which houses to hit. Maybe they worked alone.

Whatever was going on, she was going to get to the bottom of this. 

 


End file.
